Inside the Mind of A Vault Hunter
by Ftdc123
Summary: Insight into the minds of the Vault Hunters of Pandora when they find some time to think.
1. Mordecai

Mordecai sat in the top of his chilly fortress atop one of the mountains in Tundra Express contemplating what his rifle meant. He had come to the conclusion that the only thing that meant more to him than his rifle was Bloodwing, the two being the only constants in his life since he came to Pandora. He had decided that so long as his rifle didn't fail him, he wouldn't fail her. He'd keep her clean and pretty, oiled and sleek, ready at a moment's notice to make the all too natural slide from waiting to raining death on whatever he so chose from a thousand meters.

"_Yup," _he thought _"with this in my hand and calm in my mind, I am become death." _ It was true; for who could touch him when he was up here but one as skilled as himself? The only person he'd met who could almost rival his marksmanship was that Vault Hunter, what was his name again? Zip? Zeek? Zer0! It was Zer0; creepy as hell that guy was, what with the weird computer face mask thing that kept flashing exclamation points at him and the weird way he talked, seriously, who woulda thunk that he'd meet an assassin that spoke in haiku? _"Eh whatever keeps you sane." _He mused. His way was to drink himself into a stupor and then kill things with a sniper, some felt poetry was the way; and he certainly wasn't about to blame them.

He looked back to the beautiful weapon in his hand, a Maliwan rifle painted red with orange LED lighting in the scope. He'd made his own adjustments of course, upped the magnification, here he snorted in derision, the makers didn't think their product could be improved upon and so made it impossible to remove the sighting and outfit the gun with one of his own, but he'd deal. The thing truly was gorgeous, a system for raining fire (literally) on his enemies with a bullet that was super-heated as it passed down the barrel until it exited as little more than a ball of lava travelling several times the speed of sound. The bullet speed and muzzle velocity was another thing he had changed, made faster, it could cause problems if he ever missed, but he had won an intergalactic sharpshooting competition at age 17…with a revolver. Could you blame him for doubting he'd ever miss?

He chuckled to himself as he started cleaning the rifle once more; he remembered the look on a bandit's face when the guy combusted spontaneously without even hearing the distinctive report from the gun that rang out a split second later. They never saw it coming. None of them did. The vast majority of humans had left the area when they started dropping dead without having the chance to scream first. Now all he got to do was babysit the Vault Hunters as they passed through to talk to Tiny Tina. The wildlife wasn't nearly as fun to shoot at. It didn't seek cover, it didn't hide, it didn't become fearful when it saw its buddies dropping like flies. He'd read a story once…_" The Most Dangerous Game" _in which a man hunted people rather than animals because humans could reason, could think. He supposed that he could be compared to the psychopath from the story, although he did live on Pandora, and in order to do that you had to be a little unbalanced.

He went back to cleaning the lenses on the scope, dusty business in the cave. His thoughts wandered to why he was out here in freaking No Man's Land. Roland, the beloved leader or the Crimson Raiders, had sent him out here to do reconnaissance. On what though? The train? Stupid thing passed through twice a day, once in the morning and once in the evening. It was always moving too fast for him to pick off any of the loaders keeping guard on top of it. Didn't stop him from trying though. He glanced out over the frozen wasteland that was Tundra Express; he saw a few varkids scavenging at the base of his mountain, a couple stalkers hunting in the distance, a rakk here and there. But there were no people. The isolation never got to him, although he hardly considered himself alone, with Bloodwing at his side and his guns explosive response to the question "Who will die next?" he had all the company and conversation he needed. He supposed it did affect him though. Whenever he went into Sanctuary to stock up on booze and ammo he felt…crowded, cramped, and more than a little annoyed at all the background noise. He was used to this, the quiet of the wilderness, the chaos of the world far away and the natural order still in the forefront of every living creatures mind. This was his domain, his turf, and his stomping ground. Nobody messed with him here because nobody _was _here.

He was nearly done cleaning her now. A little polish and he'd start shooting. He was excited, almost giddy. This is what he was waiting for; the moment he'd put eye to sight and finger to trigger. The moment that he would play the angel of death, deciding who and what dies and the order in which they do. That moment he pulled the trigger and felt the reduced recoil on his shoulder, felt the heat from the bullet for a millisecond, and heard the *_CRACK* _a moment later. Some would call him sick for the power these things brought him, he'd laugh at them just before he pulled the trigger the next time they came meandering into the Express, thinking they were safe. He laughed to himself picturing the scene playing out.

He set his rag down, she was ready, dressed and looking purty, gleaming a bit in the light of the newly risen sun. He hoisted his gun a pulled the stock into his shoulder with the care and grace one would usually show a lover or the closest of friends. He grasped the handle, worn down from months of use; it was cool to the touch. He put his eye to the sight and realized he'd damn near already sighted a bandit convoy in the distance; he grinned to himself. This was gonna be fun, he'd start with the tires, make them realize they were under attack, then he'd show them who's territory they'd just invaded. He was Mordecai, age 39, greatest damn sniper in the galaxy, and he could use a new gun.

"No rest for the wicked indeed." Was all he said before he started the assault.


	2. Lillith

**A/N: I have decided to change this into a multi chapter story with each chapter following the same general layout of the first: an insight into the Vault Hunters minds when they get a moment to themselves in which they can think.**

Lillith was standing in the middle of here arena-esque staging area; from which she broadcasted her façade as the Firehawk, a bloodthirsty bandit who had a penchant for fire. She was just a bit irritated with the fact the Bloodshot bandits had decided that now would be a good time to stage their largest ever attack on her fortress here in Frostburn Canyon. They had captured Roland and figured "What the hell? That's one of our greatest enemies down, may as well take another right?" Well that was all fine and dandy until they reached the Firehawk's fortress. She had slaughtered the first wave of them and had turned them into nice decorations by staking their bodies to doors stuck in the ground; when you're in the position that she is, having to play the part she was, you learned quick how to scare the hell out of people.

"_Well, at least that upstart new Vault Hunter will be here soon," _she thought to herself _"she can at least clear out the Bloodshots for me." _She was rather…intrigued by this new generation of Vault Hunters that had just come to Pandora. There was Zer0, the assassin…robot…thing that creeped her right the hell out. He seemed almost eerily similar to Mordecai, and with his abilities in deception, one might think she and Mordecai had had a kid together. Then you had Axton, the commando, the rough and tumble shoot em' up soldier who had come to Pandora with "noble" goals in mind, he was the Roland of their little group; the leader, the jack of all trades, the one they turned to with the important shit. Then there was Maya, the Siren…now that caught her attention, a Siren, one of only six allowed by the universe itself to be in existence at any given point, and there were two of them on Pandora right now. That was interesting indeed. Then you had Salvador, the "Gunzerker", she chuckled here, they were just making this up as they went along now, he was obviously the Brick of their quartet, able to take huge hits and return them tenfold. They made a good solid group, just like her and the others did back in the day.

She sighed to herself, thinking about how she had come to be in her current predicament. She, Mordecai, and Roland had been holed up in New Haven when Jack decided that it was time to attack. He had sent Wilhelm, a big ass loader with enough firepower to make Brick quake in terror, to level the place. They hadn't stood a chance. Ever since then she had hardly any contact with the others, mainly because she had to play the role of a bandit leader who wanted nothing more than to kill anything that she could. This severely limited her social life, she actually laughed at her own little joke at this point, social life; who was she kidding? She was the most powerful Siren that anyone knew about; she couldn't afford a social life with power like that. She knew that a big part of the power she now possessed came from her absorption of the slag rich eridium that was now bountiful on the planet. It was like steroids to her abilities with phase shifting, with the depressing, crippling, painful addiction that came with it.

She looked up as she heard explosions in the distance; the new blood would be here within the hour. Now THAT almost made her happy. She would finally, _finally, _get to fight again. It had been so long since she had gotten to let loose and truly show what she was made of. Sure, every now and then she would venture out to kill off a bandit encampment or go hunting for a few skags to get food from; it wasn't like she could just waltz into Sanctuary, the only person they feared more than her was Jack himself, no she had to live off the land. But she could do it, she was tough, life on Pandora did that to you, even if you weren't a Vault Hunter. She had realized long ago that her beauty wouldn't get her nearly as far as a fully loaded SMG, a quick phase walk, and a well-placed grenade would. Unless of course, she was dealing with some of the stupider of the bandits, then she could be just like her namesakes form an age so ancient she dared not think on it too long. Beautiful, so much so as to entrance a person away from the safety their distance afforded, and into her waiting grasp. Once they were there of course, she ripped them apart and made an example of them to show that she should _not_ be fucked with.

The sounds of gunfire were close enough now that she could hear the screams of dying men, always a haunting symphony that was. She also felt the other worldly power being put into use by the person advancing towards her, so it was Maya then, that was good. The girl would get to see what a real Siren could do. She still remembered when she had first arrived on Pandora, how she thought she knew what strength was, she scoffed, she hadn't had a clue. Her power then was a lake in comparison to an ocean with what she had now. It was almost frightening what she could do in the scant seconds after absorbing fresh eridium crystals. She became a god in those moments. When she was like that she was invincible, untouchable, and scary as _hell._ She started gathering crystals for the fight that was sure to come. The bandits never gave up without one final push. Although when they were fighting not one, but _two_ Sirens, what chance did they think they had? Hell, _nothing_ had a chance when fighting an opponent like that.

A bandit dropped in front of her just as the door on the other end of the room exploded inwards in a show of sparks and fire, how cute, the Vault Hunter had decided to make an entrance. _"This is how it's done girly"_ She thought as she disappeared into the nether dimension that was her phase walking state. She put her hand _into_ the badass psycho in front of her and dragged him into the air before coming out of her phase walk. The nova that burst out from her in every direction burned, corroded, electrocuted, and slagged the psycho all in the same second; he died with a uniquely awful scream that was augmented rather interestingly due to the elements effects on his body. Her fiery wings making her look like a horribly beautiful parody of an angel as she floated gently down to come face to face with the slack jawed Maya in the center of the Arena.

"Sup" was all she said in greeting before absorbing several new eridium crystals and waiting for the next wave of the Bloodshot assault, she heard them laughing…this was gonna be a freaking BLAST. She giggled at her own pun and pulled out her favorite SMG, sliding a new clip into place and smacking the side of it to make sure it chambered the first round. _"Now it begins." _ Was her last thought before the psychos started swarming in the door towards her and Maya.


	3. Roland

**A/N: Hey everybody, welcome to the new chapter of "Inside the Mind of a Vault Hunter". I'd like to thank you all for your views and I hope you are enjoying reading. Be sure to leave me a review telling me what you think. Thanks! Enjoy.**

Roland stood on his balcony overlooking Sanctuary and sighed. He couldn't understand why these people insisted on living the way they used to when they were _here_. The last bastion of the Crimson Raiders, Pandora's only hope of defense against the fascist dictator known as Handsome Jack; and what kind of name was that really? Maybe he was covering up what really hid beneath that mask with the nickname, or maybe he was actually damn good-looking, but what did he care? He hated the guy either way. He wished people realized what he did, that this place, this shit hole little town called Sanctuary, was the last place a person could go without worrying about one of Jack's loaders dropping from the heavens and gunning them down for being a "bandit". It wasn't something he was likely to ever understand. He had become too righteous, too noble, and too…soft. Ever since the first Vault had been opened and the Guardian had come out, he recalled the fight, a battle against a monster the size of an office building with thrashing tentacles and monstrous strength; it wasn't something you ever forgot. But ever since that day he hadn't felt the same lust for treasure, hadn't felt the same thrill in the midst of battle, and hadn't experienced the grim satisfaction when an enemy lay dead or dying at his feet. How could he? He couldn't go off being the same adventurous soul he once was; he had to stay and lead the Raiders. They would fall back into the lifestyle they had when they were members of the Crimson Lance, corrupt, cruel, vicious murderers and thieves if he didn't help to guide them.

He turned from the balcony and walked back into the briefing room, sitting down heavily on the last good chair. Maybe he was underestimating the people under his command. Maybe they would continue fighting the good fight if he up and disappeared someday. But it didn't matter if he was or not because he wasn't leaving on any new adventures anytime soon. He was old, if not in body or physique then in mind. He had done so much and had sent so many to their deaths, even before he had started the Raiders, back when he was still working for the Atlas corporation as a Crimson Lance soldier. It weighed heavily on him; it was why he went out on the most dangerous missions himself, why he had sent Lillith off to play bandit and Mordecai into the mountains to de reconnaissance. It wouldn't do well for anyone if one of them was to fall due an order issued by him; he had an army under his command now after all. He couldn't afford to lose his cool and go on a campaign of blood and vengeance to avenge his fallen comrades and friends. All that would do was get the Raiders wiped out and would secure Jack's rule over Pandora in one fell swoop.

But now wasn't the time for reminiscing over failures past or friends sent away, one of them was back now anyways, little as he liked it. Lillith had returned to Sanctuary following his capture by Hyperion after having met the new vault Hunter, Maya was her name, and sending her off to find his sorry ass. He was waiting for one of the other Vault Hunters he'd sent on mission to return with some new and improved power core that would charge Sanctuary's shield until judgment day on onwards. It was…incredible to think that a loader, _one _robot, had held a power core strong enough to fuel and entire cities' defensive system for so long. The Vault Hunter would be back soon, they had killed Wilhelm, the loader containing the power core, and _that_ was an amazing feat by itself. Once they were back they could continue in their—

"_Roland, come in Roland, the Vault Hunter just returned with the power core, I'll meet up with him so we can plug it into the city's defense generator then I'll send him on up to you"_ was what came over his ECHO device in the form of Lt. Davis' voice.

"_Copy that," _he replied _"tell him I'm proud of him."_ Was Roland's answer to the update, this was fantastic! It was one less thing the Raiders would have to worry about, and one more thing they had over Jack, he was proud of Axton indeed, for that was the Vault Hunter's name. He'd have to buy the kid a beer down at Moxxi's place.

::Virus uploaded, shutting down shield around Sanctuary now.:: Angel's voice came drifting through, whatever the hell she used to talk to them, but what the _fuck_ did she mean by that?! This was bad, really bad; he felt his gut drop into his colon and his heart rate spike.

"_Incoming Moonshot mortar strike! What the hell just happened?!" _Sounded the horrified voice of Lt. Davis as he crackled over the ECHOnet. Roland looked out over his balcony and sure enough he could see the massive slugs come flying into the city before hearing the ground-shaking _*BOOM* _that came with the impact, this wasn't good, he needed to have Lillith get the city airborne _now._

"_Lillith!" _he called out over the ECHO network, _"Lillith, start sucking down eridium and get us in the air NOW!" _Once they were in the air he could deal with the problems of Angel's betrayal and inform the Vault Hunters that it was time to go to war. Today had gone to shit and had done it fast. Dammit, he needed to help with…something! He couldn't just stand here idly, Lillith didn't need any help, the Vault Hunter had gotten her the eridium crystals already, and he…all he could do was sit and wait. Start formulating a plan for after the city was airborne. How many dead would there be? How much structural damage? These were what he would have to deal with in just a few minutes.

He felt the massive buildup of Lillith's energy before he saw it, felt the waves of slag fueled power was over his being, get absorbed by his blood, and for a half second he wasn't Roland, he was every man woman and child in Sanctuary, it was a terrifying experience. He suddenly felt the space-time continuum fold around him as Lillith teleported the city, it wasn't a comfortable experience. He could only sit back and close his eyes as the ECHOnet became flooded with distress calls and S.O.S. broadcasts from Raiders who hadn't been teleported along with the city. He sighed again, sitting back down once he realized that the city was now safe and that they weren't _all _dead.

"_Such a good day, ruined by a goddamned computer program, who would've guessed?" _This was all he thought before he started responding to the mass number of calls to him, regaining order and starting to dispatch squadrons to find the lost and help the wounded, he would go out with them. To dig through rubble and start a war with Jack the likes of which few planets in the galaxy could hold a candle too. It was time to end this and he wasn't about to sit back and play general. He wanted revenge for this just as much as every other person in Sanctuary did.

He would be as the man he had once read of in _"Julius Caesar"_; Antony was his name, and this was what he meant when he said,_ "Cry HAVOC, and let slip the dogs of war_." Was Roland's only thought as he took a final glance out over the burning and crumbling skyline of Sanctuary, Jack had just given the Raiders their purpose.


	4. Brick

**A/N: Hey everyone, this is going to be the last chapter dealing with the four original Vault Hunters. I hope you all have enjoyed it so far, make sure to leave a review telling me what you think. Thanks!**

Brick sat within his throne room in the Slab's base of operations within Thousand Cuts, twirling his hammer in one hand. He had heard about this new plan of Roland's, to break into Angel's AI core and steal the Vault key. He didn't really have a whole lot of faith in the plan but of it meant killing mass numbers of Jack's robot army then he would definitely help out; if the Vault Hunters could pass his initiation that is. He had been sending waves of Slabs at them all afternoon waiting for them to fight their way to him. They were moving slightly slower than he would have liked, and they weren't using enough explosions…or fire. He liked things like that, big explosions and blood and fire, course Roland thought he was "bloodthirsty" or "unethical", but could you blame him for slaughtering the bastard that had betrayed their location to Hyperion? The guy deserved to die in a worse way than he had, Brick had been a little too quick for his own liking but there was nothing to be done about it now.

He suddenly stopped twirling his hammer as one of his Slabs came running into the throne room, looking like complete crap, burned and limping; he quickly ran up to him and kneeled at the foot of his seat, for it couldn't really be called a throne, what with it being held together by duct tape and a couple screws. "What is it Slab?" Brick asked in his gruff and gravelly voice, all the dust out here in Thousand Cuts hadn't been good to him.

"Mr. Slab King Sir, the Vault Hunters, they wont DIE! They just keep advancing; we must have lost a hundred slabs already, not to mention the Buzzards that have been shot down! Maybe you should go deal with them yourself sir!" The barely there Slab reported. Brick looked down at him from his seat, still towering over the man because of his near gigantesque stature.

"Go after them myself? Are you trying to say that you Slabs are so incompetent that you can't kill a few measly Vault Hunters? Maybe its good that you're all dropping, you're useless anyways!" Brick replied, he didn't mean most of it, true as it may be. He liked having his Slabs around; they were fun to mess with. This was shown by the man in front of him quaking in terror, fearing that he had pissed off his king.

"Yes of course Sir, we'll deal with it right away Sir!" The guy replied fearfully before stumble-running from the room intent on finishing off the Vault Hunters or dying trying. It'd be better than what Brick would do to him if he returned unsuccessful.

Brick leaned back heavily in his chair, hearing it release a few strained groans as he pushed the steel to its limit with his hulking frame. Hopefully today would turn out alright, he'd gain a few new Slabs, they'd have cleaned house for him, and he would get to blow some shit up at Jack's expense! What could possibly be better? He continued twirling his hammer, he could think on the most effective ways to blow up the bunker these Vault Hunters needed him for later. For now, he had to simply sit back and wait for the Hunters to arrive here in his throne room so that he could administer his little test. They had already killed the hundreds of psychos and nomads he had sent their way; what would fifty more be?

He could hear them approaching from a couple dozen yards away, subtlety was definitely not their style; good, it wasn't his either. He stood from his throne and looked out a window, following the sounds of screaming and explosions to find them. There were four of them, slaughtering his men. One of them had a turret similar to Roland's. He used it effectively enough; it could definitely use a few rocket pods though…he'd see what he could do. Then there was the Siren, using her powers to lift the bandits into the air before peppering them with bullets, killing them without giving them even the slightest chance to defend themselves; effective, cowardly, but effective. Next came the assassin, tall and quick like Mordecai, a damn good shot and not bad at all with that sword of his, he seemed to be able to…disappear? That was new, he hadn't seen cloaking like that anywhere on Pandora, the stalkers of the Eridian Blight were said to have something similar, maybe this was a synthetic counterpart? Then you had the little guy, Salvador, and from what Brick had seen he would get along with him great! He would go into a type of adrenaline fueled rage, similar to his own berzerking mode, and he would pull out a second gun and use it to rain metal and fire upon his foes, now _that_ was a fighting style he could get behind!

They were nearly outside his door now, time to prepare for his grand entrance! He walked back through his throne room to look over the balcony towards the door. It opened rather explosively, getting blown off its hinges in the process. He scowled, that would be a pain in the ass to fix later. They all walked in, checking corners, and not finding anything, finally looked up; seeing him standing there looking down at them.

"Welcome, Vault Hunters, to the home of the Slabs! You've done well so far and if you can pass my little test, you can join my gang and I'll help you with whatever it is you need dead!" Brick exclaimed grandly, seeing them all ready their weapons, _"Good, they automatically expected a fight, they'll do well here_" He thought as he opened the doors releasing the hordes of bandits into the room, only to have them soon mowed down and having to be replaced by a new wave.

"_Yeah, they'll do just fine." _This was Brick's thought as the last psycho of his "test" fell to a grenade tossed by Salvador. He jumped down and welcomed them to the Slabs, he was going to like hanging with these guys; they seemed so…fun. He could only hope they didn't have weak stomachs and that their moral compass was thrown slightly out of whack by all the shit that went on here, he didn't feel like dealing with a new group or Rolands after all.


End file.
